The Twelve Days of Christmas
by HeathyrFeathyr
Summary: Tis the season to get and not to give, to receive what rightfully belongs to the Lord of Locksley. As Sir Guy prepares for another holiday season with little pleasure, he meets someone who just might turn his heart around. This is the Story of Guy's Christmas miracle.
1. The First Day of Christmas

DAY ONE

Today marked the beginning of a very easy fortnight for him. As his boots scuffed down the steps, a smile spread across the fit man's face. Within the next few days, he would be tripping over gifts from the people of Locksley, winning hundreds of crowns from lousy gamblers, and enjoying the company of caroling women with less than strict morals. Today was December 25th, the first of the twelve days of Christmas.

As per usual the Sheriff demanded that Sir Guy keep a watchful eye over Nottingham's festival to extinguish the inevitable brawls that would erupt as townspeople lost their money to the gambling tables. The people of Nottingham were always so caught up in the music, the games, theatrics, and the worry free joy of the season – which was the perfect opportunity for Guy to shake of the stress of his regular duties and do two weeks' worth of nothing.

He approached the heavy wooden doors that led outside to the courtyard and felt a hint of the awaiting cold seeping through the frame. He pulled his gloves on a little tighter and braced his body for the chill. Opening the doors, the sound of bards, laughter, and children's games floated above the castle walls and danced about in the courtyard. It would bring a smile to anyone and everyone – except the man in black. He found it all so petty. Just because the weather hit the coldest point of the year didn't mean all inhibitions should be abandoned and silver linings should appear. The next two weeks were days, simply days, but they left plenty of room for him to take advantage of open hearted people. And that is what made this season joyous.

He made his way through the archway that divided the castle from the city of Nottingham and paused briefly, rubbing a bit of decorative evergreen between the fingers of his left hand. It was so frail, and so dull; a plant just like any other. Picking off a piece and throwing it aside, he continued down the street. Sir Guy wore his thickest clothes to keep him warm but made sure that his sword was on display from his hip to assert authority. As he passed clusters of townsfolk they hushed their voices a bit. He always enjoyed that ember of terror he put into commoners as the Lord of Locksley wandered by, it was so comforting to know he was that important. Guy approached a small gaming stand and placed a few bets. He intentionally lost a crown or two before leaving to encourage other players – after all, their losses went straight into his castle. Or rather, the Sheriff's castle. Guy shook his head to get rid of the reminder that the small man still held authority over him. He was so close to power he could taste it every night as he went to sleep.

A group of fairly attractive carolers drifted near him. If anyone was to complain that women had begun lewdly dancing around town to a song or two, it wouldn't be him. Although they were a bit worried about the man in black, some of the girls saw a perfect opportunity to snatch up a man with a title and began trying to impress him. As the tall brunette tried her hardest, his gaze wandered across the crowd until he became stuck staring in the same place.

Down the road was a new face. Was it new? He didn't know it, nor did he pay attention to half of the people of Nottinghamshire, but surely he would remember such a thing as this. Her golden hair was pinned up with curls brushing down to the base of her neck, showcasing her round pale face. It was clear she was trying to understand one of the games the men were playing, but somehow no one seemed to take note of the young, fresh faced beauty standing behind them. Sir Guy of Gisborne placed a hand on the arm of the dancer and pushed her aside, never taking his eyes off of his target. The breath became stuck in his throat as he came closer and closer to her side. It had been so long since words were so far from him…

"Enjoying the game?" he softly asked in his baritone voice. The girl, who was chewing her bottom lip like candy, turned to her left to see him. She stood up to only his shoulders and blushed a little at his bright blue eyes that were cradled in soft wrinkles.

"I can't say I quite understand it, but it's a nice part of the festival." She slowly drove her green eyes back to the craps table. Men surrounded it, most with cups of Christmas ale firmly gripped, rolling dice and laughing, tossing crowns about here and there. Guy let a small smirk crawl up the side of his lips.

"Well, it's gambling based on color and number. You choose what you think you will get, bet money, roll the die, and see if luck is in your favor. Quite the game for a rush." She rose up onto her toes to try and get a better view of the game. After admiring her gentle frame for a moment, Guy continued, "You should give it a shot." She glanced at him, back to the table, and into his strong face again.

"Oh, no, no," she let out a soft chuckle and landed back flat on her feet, "I have never played and, to be honest, spare crowns aren't something visitors tend to carry." Gisborne placed a hand in his pocket and pulled out a crown. He slipped it gently into her right hand with a smile. She tried to deny him but he hushed her calmly, ensuring that he would show her how it's done.

"As long as you tell me who I have just given my money to, it's not a problem." She bit her lip again and smiled.

"Ruby. My name is Ruby." He nodded and led her to the table. It was rather full, but that was no problem for Guy. With a menacing stare he chased away two players, leaving room for the both of them to stand comfortably close. She chose to bet on black out of honor for the kind man in black who had helped her and, sure enough, she doubled her money. In a fit of excitement, she wrapped her arms around his left arm and stole every chance of a breath from his body. Once he reclaimed his suave, they meandered down the road past minstrels and holly, dodging random drunkards here and there.

"So tell me, what brings you to Nottingham? You say you're visiting?" Sir Guy's voice was deep and soothing. Ruby ran her hands over a stretch of holly on one of the buildings that was decorated quite festively.

"I'm here to see my sister. She lives here in town with her husband and, well, she is the only place I have to turn to now," she felt his eyebrows screw up but didn't look into his face, "my father recently died you see and now… well now I need a home, don't I?" she added a smile to the end. Guy wasn't sure if she tried to sound cheery to trick herself or him. He gave his condolences and rolled the idea around in his head for a bit before speaking.

"You lived with your father then? That must mean you aren't married."

"My father was a very protective man. Didn't want me to meet a single suitor until I was twenty. Go figure, I reach twenty and he dies soon after," her lips pulled a bit tight before smiling. "Always a daft man with a poor sense of time."

The pair of them laughed and joked and flirted their way through the festival without a single regard to closing of the afternoon. They neared Nottingham castle, passing several of the Sheriff's guards. One of the men swiftly approached Guy from the front gate.

"Sir Guy, madame," he bowed his head for a moment before continuing, "The Sheriff would like to see you. He says you have plans to go over…" The soldier's words trailed off as he saw Gisborne's stare become harder and more aggressive. Could he not see that the man in black was enjoying himself? Actually, genuinely enjoying himself? Anger swelled up inside his veins and threatened to burst all over the doorman. Ruby laid a hand on Guy's shoulder just before he could speak his discontent.

"Go," he turned to see her light eyes and protest, but chuckled and repeated herself, "Go! It isn't polite to keep a Sheriff waiting. Besides, you're an important man. You must have more important things to do with your day. Perhaps I will be lucky enough to see you again at the festival another day."

"I sincerely hope so." He beamed. They traded grins and went their separate ways, but not before Gisborne tightened his jaw and shot at the man who had taken away his relaxing day.

He treaded to the courtyard and stopped at an archway with more evergreen dangling from the stone. He pulled off his right glove and gingerly held the soft greenery between his fingers, rubbing it a bit to feel the bristles against his skin. It was small, delicate, and beautiful. This moment of peace, he knew, would cling to him all day, no matter what the Sheriff had in store.


	2. Two Turtle Doves Kept Apart

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DAY TWO

The shutters over the windows of his chambers were starting to fail at keeping out the chilly air by the early mornings. Normally he wouldn't notice because he would be far away, dreaming of a future where he sat upon the Sheriff's throne. Or, most commonly, a nightmare in which he is gruesomely defeated in battle by no one other than Robin Hood. It seems that his thoughts are always filled with the blood that accompanies failure; but not now. And not all night, for that matter. As he lay cradled in the thick sheets of his bed he thought of the wonderful first day of the fair. Of the sounds, the smells, and the voice of that beautiful girl…

Since the loss of Marian, he never found much interest in women beyond their physical benefits, and seldom had the idea of becoming married entered his mind. After all, what would people think if he stepped foot into an altar again? They would laugh, that's what they would do, they would laugh and mock him and strip him naked of any authority and dignity. There he would stand, nude in his finest clothes, a victim of jeering and his future wife a shame upon her family to marry such a foolish and down on luck man. Which is why it would never come to pass. Sir Guy of Gisborne would be destined to fall into history books as a lonely man to die alone with nothing but a title and power. And that would be with luck, of course. He was becoming increasingly worried that the mental anguish and relentless struggle inside his head would be all his life was meant to accomplish.

He was baffled, though. Yesterday he never worried once about Hood, the future, or his own standing. He simply, dare it be said, enjoyed himself. Perhaps, Guy tumbled in his brain, Christmas really is a splendid time of year. He woke up just before the sun came to Nottinghamshire and didn't dare drag himself from the velvety lush warmth of his mattress until he heard the bustle of men at work shuffling through the hallways. Another day at the castle had begun. He slid into his traditional black leathers and meandered down to the kitchen area.

Women in flour caked clothes were hard at work preparing the pastries that the Sheriff demanded each morning. Others were skinning game for supper that night and tossing the bloody scraps aside. Some mornings Guy entertained the idea of giving those leftovers to some of the prisoners downstairs, but today… today he wrapped his fingers around a bright red apple near the rolling pins and smiled at the cook in front of him. Clearly, she was not entirely sure how to respond, but this didn't put down his mood in the slightest. Soon the festival would start back up for the second day. He was wondering what the beautiful Ruby would like to see first today. Perhaps they should visit the traveling circus to see jugglers. But if she fancied more gaming tables, he would be happy to teach her. Maybe they should go by a local bakery for lunch…

This thought was interrupted quite painfully. Burning hot water splashed across his legs as a young woman dropped a tub of the liquid she had just heated on the fireplace. She scrambled to pick the great bucket right side up and looked petrified into Gisborne's eyes. Surely, she thought, she was to be put in the dungeons - or at least slapped across the face.

"You're a bit small to carry that." He quietly said after a few moments of deafening silence. The teenage girl dared not look at his gaze.

"Well, um, Sir – Sir Guy," she wringed her hands around each other, "Since Lucy passed we haven't gotten a new ewerer and it's been left to me to tend to the hot water around the castle…" She braced herself for a barking. Instead, Guy reflected on this thought and nodded.

"I will see what I can do about that." And with that, he strolled from the kitchen back to the great wooden stairs. The crisp apple made his palate soaked with sweet juice as he reentered his chambers. Oddly enough, he didn't mind having to change trousers today. He would go roam the fair and have a leisurely holiday, just as he hoped. He actually never knew he desired such a break, it was as if he kept the secret from himself, but playing peace keeper at the town fair was much more enjoyable than he could have anticipated. He dwelled on this until he got out past the castle's courtyard. There the business was slowly started to gain pace for the day. Some of the stands were still being erected and the circus had just arrived into the town. He fought the smile on his lips as his lungs took in the smell of the green decorations that were abundant.

Prominently, he stood at full height just before the castle gate, arms folded, eyes scanning the public. It was here he decided to wait to find his shining Ruby in the crowd. Hours, however, passed. Groups bustled about left and right and the sun clicked down just below the towers of Nottingham castle. And yet not a single blond struck his eye. Gisborne furrowed his brow and shifted the weight on his feet. In frustration, he began to walk the streets.

She was supposed to be here, she said so. She had said so herself! The woman promised him she would be here today… hadn't she? It didn't matter, if she cared, she would have arrived. She would have let him know if she meant anything more than a cheap thrill. Clearly, he had idolized a loose liar who wanted the satisfaction of taking down the guard of the strongest man in the region. He felt a fool. The sourness crept onto his face as time faded away and the desire to push people away swelled within him. He handed out scowls to everyone with no prerequisites.

Guy noted a hoard of men pushing and yelling over a gambling table. He broke through the crowd and shoved one of the men in the center against a wall, channeling his rage of disappointment into the man's chest. The swindler was stripped of his profits and was ensured that his generous donation to the Sheriff would certainly be put to good use. He had no patience for the drunkards that bloomed at the night. As he stormed back into the castle he tossed the bag of crowns to a guard.

He hadn't noticed until now that he left his sword upstairs in his chambers.


	3. The Frenchman After the Hen

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DAY THREE

The cold ate at his skin like a disease. It crawled over each hair on his body and planted itself firmly into his mood. Guy of Gisborne had returned to his usual self. He washed his throat with Christmas ale, fresh from the bar of a grubby man, trying to warm himself and make this role more bearable. There were nine more days of the festival yet, and he had already broken up enough drunken brawls for the entire year. He slammed down his empty cup and twitched his head in demand of another drink. Gisborne grabbed the new mug and treaded out of the dingy hole of a tavern. The sun was clicking down below the towers of Nottingham castle as the man in black slowly poisoned his own body with both alcohol and sulk. His liquid companion had put fuzz around the edges, taken away a filter of reality, and left him with a slight buzz of apathy. With another swig he pressed through the festival.

Some of the bards tried to take advantage of his alcohol induced state and charm him with a song; most, though, knew that Guy would not take kindly to being approached. This is why he was a bit shocked as a hand fell upon his shoulder and made its way down to the small of his back. He turned quickly, a little too quickly after four ales, and was surprised to see none other than a petite blonde with a grin.

"Looks like your job is tough," Ruby poked, acknowledging the drink. Guy couldn't help but smile at seeing her; he also couldn't help but turn sour. She had made him a fool the day before.

"Running Nottingham has its benefits," Guy sniffed flatly. His stale remark was made without particularly looking at her. He feigned interest in the hustle and bustle of citizens, but his mind was actually hinged on the next words from her pale pink mouth. She nodded slowly and cleared her throat.

"Well I hope the past few days haven't made you so busy that we can't take a stroll round the festivities."

"I suppose you could walk with me, if you like." The vocals were monotone but his heart was dancing to a rhythmic tune as she wrapped both of her arms around his left bicep and tugged him along toward a pair of jugglers. Her body felt so tender as she leaned her weight against him. Rogue strands of hair paraded freely in the wind as they wound through cobbled streets. "I assume you enjoyed the fair yesterday." Gisborne remarked heavily, hoping to pounce her for leaving him stranded and embarrassed at the castle gate. She laughed freely and looked up into his strong face, focusing her eyes on the shadowing stubble around his clenched mouth.

"Funny story about that," Ruby began, "I tried to start working for this cloth dyer - crazy witch of a woman, right? So I start dipping this fabric into this tote that smelled of death and scraps, and all of a sudden, someone is getting yelled at for spilling pigments, so I drop the cloth – the entire cloth – into this hideous aubergine purple. The old bat starts rambling about this and that as I fish it out… and well, that is how I got fired and colored my arms purple for an entire night." Her child like chortle endured the entirety of the tale. Gisborne began to curse the alcohol he consumed for overriding his anger and replacing it with a smirk.

"So now you plan to move to London and dye fabric for Prince John himself, eh?"

"Oh, don't you know it. My qualifications are stellar!" The couple laughed as the got to a small makeshift arena filled with clowns who were taking in audiences with their artificial dueling. Performers tumbled about with wooden sticks, flailing all over the ground whilst the opponent did foolish victory dances. The Sheriff's right hand man turned his body to the blonde beauty and put a gloved hand on her shoulder blade. The alcohol pumped through his veins and dissolved any realization of his acts of forwardness.

"Come work in the castle," he leapt, "I need a ewerer. Some woman died and spilled water or something and… either way, do it." Ruby burst out at his colloquial invitation.

"I think you need to hire someone to keep you from the drink, my friend." Gisborne stared down at his wooden mug. With one swift chug, the booze swirled down with burning pleasure as he discarded the cup. He placed his now free palm on her temple and looked into her eyes.

"I mean it. Come live with me in the castle. You will have everything you desire brought to your door and the best protection in England." The man in black slid his body forward until he could sense the vibration of her body and soul, their energy bouncing off of each other's flesh, his breath drawing deeper. Ruby slightly averted her stare as he ran his thumb back and forth across her face. There was no doubt this man was attractive, but his quick advances seemed uncomfortably provoked by an underlying urge. Ruby could think of nothing more than her father in the burning moment he laid his head against hers. The daughter of a chaplain, it was an unspoken assumption through her family that all of his descendants would fulfill duties to the church, and only the church, throughout their mortal lives.

She had come to Nottingham to consult her sister on the process of joining the nuns of Kirklee's Abbey; it was her father's dying wish. Her sibling was already in the process of renouncing her common life for the cloth. But here, Ruby found herself torn between the men she held desires to devote herself to – Gisborne and the Son himself. It was not, however, a question of her faith. For the first time, though, she saw an opportunity to demand of herself a self-developed opinion. Did she want to shun off the chances of men like this to symbolically marry Jesus, a man she could never even put her arms around?

"Ewerer, eh? Well… it is, I suppose, a secure job. And I could have worse neighbors than you." She tried to chuckle to relax her nerves, but this only drew a small kiss onto her head from the Sheriff's associate. Her stomach boiled away inside of her with irrational desire as her brain ran rampant with fanciful thoughts, all the while keeping a left hand stroking the cross that dangle from her alabaster neck. "I will have to think on it. Rest assured I shall take it up with his Holiness in the morning."

Gisborne was unsatisfied with such a non-immediate answer. Ale flowed through his brain and demanded nothing less than this petite blond body. He wanted to show her off, be lifted by her company, and enjoy her faithfulness. He had found a woman he wanted even more than the Lady Marian, he was sure of it after only three days. He didn't have to ask a church whether or not he felt it. He kissed her again, this time on the ridge of her cheek, his dark stubble nuzzling her rounded face. Ruby softly placed a hand on his side. Her fingers sensed the thick leather of his jacket; she couldn't discover whether she touched him to make him stop or to hold him closer. Her soft pink lips reiterated the conviction of her innocence.

"I will pray on it, Sir Guy, and send you word of my decision." A soft laugh fell from the man in black.

"Call me Guy." With that he tugged her face to his and forced a kiss upon her mouth. He felt Ruby pull away but followed her, refusing to let their lips separate, taking this moment for himself. The chaplain's daughter struck a cold palm across his face, sending a sting through her chilled and exposed skin. Guy, too, felt this sting from the weather on top of the sharpness of rejection. Eyes gravitated towards them as townsfolk heard the refusal of their feared leader. This iron man of leather and hate had been shot down with a bewildered look, and they ate it up faster than they would a royal feast. Ruby scurried towards a crowd to lose him, but Guy fiercely grabbed her by the fragile wrist. After a moment, he relaxed his grip and took in a deep breath. "I apologize, that was inappropriate." He couldn't match his clear blue eyes to hers.

Ruby said nothing as she slid her delicate hand from his hard glove and continued to whisk into the anonymous crowd. Sir Guy of Gisborne, wearing shame from head to toe, evaded his people and went to solitude inside the stone walls of the castle. Here he would do everything in his power to try and alter the past and erase this burdening mistake. He was afraid to find out what he already knew – that nothing could take it back.


	4. Calling on the Bird

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DAY FOUR

Ruby smoothly ran her hand over the silver. Each link of the bracelet was carefully hammered and conjoined to another, coming to a soft leather strap on each end. Next to this jewelry lay a small brooch with red jasper pressed into the gold; the design was in the style of a rose. All through the morning, guards from the great stone castle had visited this home to bestow several gifts, each of them with a small note attached from Sir Guy of Gisborne. She looked up to see her sister with her baby girl wrapped up tightly in her arms. Ruby's sibling was preparing a stew for dinner that night when her husband came home from working in the markets. The warm scent curled itself around the small cottage in the center of Nottingham. Outside, music and laughter pressed itself through the seals of the door and windows into the kitchen where the women sat. Ruby smiled as she admired the presents her crush had sent over in apology from his action the day before.

"Now, you still need to tell me all about him," Lucy, the eldest sister of the family, teased to Ruby, "what is he like?" Ruby could not contain her grin of excitement. Although the kiss yesterday had offended her, the buzz inside of her body was too joyous to ignore. She was crazy about Guy.

"Well, he is sweet. So sweet. And funny! Oh, we could joke all day. He is so chivalrous, and handsome, and kind…" She found it necessary to reign her thoughts back in as they drifted away, "And he has a great job. He works for security around here, keeping the peace." Ruby bounced the brooch up and down in her palm.

"He sounds wonderful. But Ruby… you can't forget why you came here. We belong at the abbey."

"If you met him, you would understand." She replied softly. In her prayers God had not clearly instilled in her where her path should lead. Did she truly belong as a ewerer to the head of the county or was it just a petty distraction? She was brought out of this analysis of her conundrum by a knocking at the door. A glance was brought to Lucy, who gave her an amused eyebrow raise. At this rate, it had to be another soldier bearing a token. Ruby stood and took the few steps required to travel from the back of the kitchen to the front door. The wooden panel creaked open, groaning at the metal hinges, sliding gently across the ground. Opposite the threshold stood a tall and humble man with his elbow rested on the door frame. The dark stubble around his chin tugged up as a smirk appeared and his eyes shone a bit brighter. In the other hand he held a vibrant bouquet of violet autumn crocus flowers and blue Jacob's-ladder all tied up at the stem with twine. Guy of Gisborne gave a small sniff before speaking.

"I hope I am not disturbing you." He lowly but pleasantly began. Lucy shook her head quickly and beamed, "I brought you flowers. Ruby, I hope you can forgive me for my poor behavior last evening. I was out of line." She watched as his Adam's apple gulped down his throat alongside his pride. These words were not particularly easy for him to say. In giddy joy of his presence she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. Slowly, he reciprocated and placed his hands on the small of her back. She pushed her face into the side of his neck and whispered to her man in black.

"I should be the one apologizing, Guy. My exit was rather rude, to say the least." They remained in this position for another moment before she broke off of his body and invited him inside. Sluggishly Guy came into the dwelling. Lucy shifted her child to her hip and ceased her stirring of the stew. She looked up and immediately wished she hadn't. The wooden spoon dropped to the floor and clanked in the silence. Her face plastered over with terror and shock while Lucy smiled and Guy remained frozen. Ruby was new to the territory and held no stigmas against him; her mind and heart were open to who he was and, more importantly, who he could be. Long term residents had their own opinions of the leather clad creature of hate. He nodded out of courtesy and began scanning the home. He was disgusted.

Vegetable scraps lay scattered around the tables of the kitchen and the hollow stench of boiling cabbage stuck to the air. From his entrance he could peer around the corner and see filthy hay beds and hung clothing. Gisborne did his best to stifle a sneer. How could this be called a home? He required a feather down blanket each night under a sheer canopy in his chambers. His personal ewerer and room delivered meals were what made life comfortable. This life, these people… it was beneath him. But then he looked over to the object his fancy. Her soft blonde hair tumbled down her shoulder blades and brushed against the pale blue dress that contoured her petite body. She looked so happy, so precious, so content, and yet she was stuck in this mud hole.

His mind snapped back to where they stood. The tension sucked each bit of oxygen from the dingy room and left Gisborne boiling in his jacket. He excused himself and hurried out of the tiny abode into the street and almost got swept away by the huge crowd. As darkness was falling, more people of Nottingham were being drawn into the fourth day of the festival. The party was as lively as ever but he could not be wrapped up in it. Guy reimagined the looks on the sisters' faces and how different they were. Ruby seemed almost proud as she brought him inside of her home, her life. It had been years since he noted that behavior in anyone; in fact, when was the last time someone felt proud of him?

Ruby snuck out and placed her hands on his back. He turned and placed gloved fingertips at the base of her rounded chin. With a pitiful smile, he spun on his heel and began to pace away into the cloud of bodies. Ruby pulled up the base of her dress and ran after him in haste. The priest's daughter scuffed her feet to slow down as she matched him; Gisborne did not look at her. She thought it odd that she cared so much about his fleeing, but it was impossible to deny that she had been won over. The gifts of his heartfelt apology truly wooed her. Ruby brushed her fingers down his back and begged him to halt but he did no such thing, he simply shook his head.

"You do not deserve me." He darkly muttered. Her eyes swelled in astonishment from this frankness. A moment passed until Guy realized his mistake, "I don't mean it like that," he sighed and faced her, standing still in the center of a bustling crowd. No one dared confront him to move, "You deserve happiness. You deserve a good man, Ruby, and I am not good enough for you. I am not proud of some things I do and though I can be a different man, you shouldn't have to wait for me to change. I do not deserve your warmth and beauty, and so I must let you go." The man in black began to leave again but the blonde cradled his face in her palms.

"Guy, you are beautiful and you are warm. You are the reason I did not sleep last night. You sacrificed your entire day to deliver these treasures in the sincerest hope that I would forgive you, you went through the trouble of finding where I am staying to bring flowers, Guy… you are a good man. A sincere man." He shook his head fiercely and looked down.

"Not if you knew what I do." Guy whispered. Ruby stroked down his scruff.

"Show me."

Dank moisture coated the dark rock walls and glistened next to regularly placed torches. A general haze of orange from the fire flooded the underground of Nottingham castle as prisoners coughed and murmured behind metal bars, all of their eyes fixed on the man who trapped them in this cage. Gisborne carefully led Ruby down the steps and dared not meet anyone's gaze. Several people in their cells wondered what malicious acts he would impose upon such a pretty young face and, unfortunately, they could easily suspect one possibility. But alas, Guy meant her no harm, nor would he consider taking her innocence in nasty pleasure as it was assumed. Ruby hurriedly scanned the dungeon and looked to the cold floor. This place was filthy and full of anger. Shame mingled with rushing embarrassment inside Guy's body that was so plentiful it threatened to burst through his skin. They both wanted to leave and so, without a word, the man escorted Ruby back up the steps to the outer terrace of the castle. Their lungs welcomed fresh winter air as she stopped and smiled.

"I told you there are far better men in this world." He sheepishly reiterated. She touched his chest and kept the grin that puzzled Gisborne.

"And you told me you wish to be one of them," her lighter than air words still confused him, "It is true that your role here is, well, less than glamorous. But taking me here and revealing the black mark upon your work… Guy, that is naked honesty. That is trust. That is the best gift you have presented to me all day." Dusk haunted the sky and chased away the last remaining white clouds to the edge of the horizon. Guy still did not understand why she could be so happy about seeing his crimes against humanity, but it would be a straight lie to say he was ungrateful. Ruby did not need filters or deception to cloud who he was for she accepted the good with the bad, the business with the pleasure, and the dark with the light. He pulled her in tightly to his chest and stooped a bit to rest his chin upon the crown of her head, his glove stroking through her fine blond locks. He could not let this slip away from him; life would not steal love from him again. Ruby swiftly pulled away when the couple heard the clearing of a throat. Guy turned and let out a heavy sigh as he squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

The Sheriff rocked back and forth on his feet advertising an incredibly amused look.

"Not to ruin this little play date, but I do believe you have work to do, hmm Gisborne?" The sarcasm fell from his voice and splattered across the ground, taking but a short fall from such a small man. Guy nodded and said nothing as he tugged Ruby to come along to the courtyard with him. It was only fitting, he supposed, that she be able to take his violence and humiliation from the Sheriff if she were to be wooed. It didn't seem to resonate at all with her, though. She gave a cute goodbye and donated a small, warm kiss on his cheek before skipping off back to her sister's home. It was time to fill her stomach with cabbage stew and receive verbal lashings for her feelings toward Sir Guy of Gisborne.


	5. Gold Rings

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DAY FIVE

Guy fixed his eyes on the honed edges of his sword. With each wipe, the shine became more and more brilliant, the silver of the blade gleaming status into his face. This weapon was one of the most expensive things in his possession, pressed from pure steel, not peaty iron like the majority. It was his detached appendage that asserted his name, and his power, to anyone. The cloth in his bare hand had become filthy as he polished this weapon. His attention was miles away from this castle, this job, this county, this country, possibly even this ocean. The only thing that linked him to the now was the sensation of the hilt resting in his palm. This false bubble fell away when a sturdy knock came to his chamber doors; with a clearing of the throat he asked the person to enter. Iron clanked as the clumsy fortress guard slipped into the threshold.

"Sir Guy, you have a visitor in the courtyard. She says she has been robbed," Gisborne didn't even look up.

"That's your problem, not mine." His low voice grumbled.

"She asked for you by name sir." Guy's clear blue eyes screwed up, deepening the wrinkles that hugged around them. Reluctantly he nestled his sword into its sheath and followed his inferior down the stony corridor. As he came nearer and nearer to the outside, he noticed the cold seeping into the main hall. In the courtyard frozen air was thick and sturdy like ice as he proceeded down the steps to a figure in a deep red cloak.

"Alright," he rolled his eyes, "Let's make this quick." The girl spun around and pushed the front edge of the cloak's hood out of her eyes and up a bit above the high blonde hair line she boasted. Her pale round face looked milkier than usual except for her nose and cheeks, which had flooded into a pink from the biting chill of the winter. Her hands were fidgeting, pulling fingers to their limit and rubbing the opposite's palm. Gisborne suddenly didn't want to get back to the warmth of his private matters because the warmth he felt inside combatted the air. "Ruby, what are you doing here?" a grin pushed to the edges of his lips before they fell back flat, "I was told you are in trouble?" He held the sides of her arms as her gaze wandered to the frosty ground. Ruby licked her lips before starting.

"I was going to head to Kirklee's Abbey this morning, I wanted to visit one of the cardinals, but I got stopped not far out of town…" her soft voice faded out then continued back up, "This group of men came out from the trees, I didn't even notice them until I had weapons at my throat. They made me take off my jewelry and hand over my money -" Gisborne shushed her as the stress began to topple the words. He pulled her into his chest and rubbed his thumb over the back of her neck while she breathed against his. Anger began to boil and itch the veins of his body as he thought over the outlaws pulling threats at this sweet girl. He looked down as she rubbed the naked spots of her small fingers where two beautiful gold rings rested this morning; he had had enough of Robin Hood. His warm lips pressed to her forehead for a moment before he demanded a horse be brought to him immediately alongside his best squad of men.

"I will return your goods, and I will have revenge." Guy swore. Ruby hardly had time to wish him well and tell him to be safe before the Sheriff's accomplice mounted his black stallion and charged it out of Nottingham. He ran past all of the festivities of the people in the market, the smells of alcohol and food mingling with the cheers of gaming, not once looking back.

Much's feet crunched quickly over frozen leaves as he struggled to catch up with the leader of the band. He, Robin, and Allan were trudging back to the safety of their camp after another successful ambush on a touring cart. The circuses flowing in and out for the Christmas celebrations were wonderful pools of income for the outlaws; in fact, they had to divide up into packs in order to claim them all. Robin chuckled at his companion's joke as they turned down a path.

"All I'm sayin' is somebody ought to hit some sense into his head. Next thing you know he is gonna say the sun doesn't go around the planet." The boys giggled as Much considered what Allan had said.

"Well, maybe he could be right about that." They all halted in the woods and looked at the man servant.

"Much," Robin chuckled, touching his shoulder, "The sun revolves around the earth. It's a fact." With a bit of a sour taste he continued back to camp, heading the pack to disguise his shame. In the blink of an eye Hood collapsed to the dirt as a stick shoved him to earth. The other men barely dodged the blow, turning to see Gisborne and his crew surrounding the notorious trailblazer, rage sweltering brightly. The outlaws began to take down officers one by one out of second nature, tearing them from their horses and pressing their protective covering into new shapes as they fell unconscious. Much was so preoccupied defending himself from an axe that he hadn't watched his boss in a heated battle with his nemesis.

Robin blocked Guy's thrust with the arch of his bow, pushing the sword and the man back a step, giving him room to rush ahead and line up a shot. The arrow spun through the frigid sky and grazed the leather sleeve of Gisborne. Steel swept over Robin's brown hair and swished in his ear. Guy spat in rage, "Give it back!" His enemy didn't register the words until the second time around. Their duel continued, drawing heavy breaths from both of them, as Hood furrowed his brow.

"What, Gisborne? What is it you want?" Guy bashed the bow from his hand and tackled him to the ground, lying on his chest with a gloved grasp to his throat.

"That girl, that innocent girl you mugged this morning, you hurt her. A pretty young girl going to church and you ripped off her jewelry!" The outlaw tugged the hand from his neck and flipped over, straddling Gisborne's chest and using all of his strength to keep the weapon away from his flesh.

"We ask everybody for the jewelry they are wearing, it's business. Surely you know what it means to take from people you don't know. Only difference is she isn't dead!" The scuffle continued, fists flying about, huffing and grunting ringing through the trees, feet sliding across the wet brush. Robin was becoming quickly exhausted, but somehow his opponent was not losing strength. It was as if he had a bet in the pool; a passion to argue for. The criminal knew when he had to fold. He reached to a sheep skin bag on his waist and chucked it to the black suited man. With that distraction, he slipped into Sherwood undetected and made his way back to recuperate. Guy tugged off his right glove with his teeth and dug his hand into the sack. Out came a few coins, a cheap brooch, and two small gold rings. He clutched them tightly and looked back to his horse. He had to ride back now to return these to Ruby by the night.

The only trace left of the sun that survived the dusk by the time he got into Nottingham was a sliver of red just on the horizon. Townspeople had already gone back to their petite homes to fill their stomachs and rest their heads for the evening. Guy hoped it was not too deep into the nocturnal hours to return these trinkets. His memory led him down small cobbled roads until he was face to face with the door that he visited a not so long ago to where his blonde obsession was residing; his hand resisted tapping the door. Yet, he prevailed and summoned the unlocking of the door. He instantly recognized the elder sibling of Ruby, her hardened face and dark hair seemed to age her as fear stirred in her stomach upon the sight of the man in leather. Neither of them could conjure words before the young victim noticed his presence.

"Guy!" she chirped, glad to see his journey left him in no state of harm. She nudged Lucy aside and placed a gentle hand on his chest. The right half of his lips curled up along his face, dragging stubble with it, as Gisborne produced a palm of jewelry. The tumble with Hood seemed hardly an inconvenience at seeing her beautiful eyes light up in pleasure. Ruby let out a small squeal as she hugged her knight in black in gratitude, one hand grabbing her rings, the other holding the strong back of Locksley's lord. Gisborne couldn't bring his mind to follow a path of vengeance or even flash back the memories of that afternoon while he held her to him, feeling her warm cheek press against his cold heart. His brain was wiped of any control. He was so content with this moment that he refused to acknowledge the frozen air that swept against him from behind. He was her private protector, and she trusted no one but him. And in this moment, he knew that he wanted no one but her.


	6. A-Laying A Plan

DAY SIX

_I realize now that I could not desire any other place. I look forward to this new journey._

Sir Guy of Gisborne ran his fingers over the edges of the parchment again. The sides of the note curved over softly from habit after being bound by twine for delivery. Although he made his way around winding corridors, he didn't lift his eyes from the note once.

_I see it as the beginning of a future, and I am excited to see what, and who, that future entails for me._

Guy felt a sort of joyous numbing that blossomed from the pads of his hand up his veins, wound through capillaries, and fizzled into his heart. She had agreed, and with the permission of his superior, she would be living with him tonight. He would not accept the thought that Vesey would deny this new ewerer; the whole concept was forcefully shoved from his brain and onto the floor that he hastily marched down. A moment of pep talk held him at the wooden door before entering.

The Sherriff stood tall, which was still rather short at five and a half feet, around a model display of England, its channel, and surrounding islands. The circular room was dark with orange ribbons flickering in combat with the shadows from torches bolted against the wall. Gisborne did not extend the courtesy of a knock before coming to stand behind his boss.

"My Lord, I need a word with you. As you know, we are in need of a replacement ewerer and I believe I found a –"

"No." was the only acknowledgement Vesey made to his presence. He was as still as the stone that constructed the floor beneath his slippers, meanwhile Guy squirmed in panic.

"My Lord, without a full staff we cannot run this entire castle." Luckily, the insecurity of his eyes was still a secret considering he faced the Sherriff's back. But as the small man turned, a shield of coolness was drawn.

"Gisborne, what does a staff need? Food, water, shelter; they are pets. We cannot afford to carry the weight of a scruffy pet around here, and do you know why?" Vesey pushed his face into the beard of his associate with a deep scowl and negative intentions, "Because we do not have enough money to pay off Prince John yet! Do you know why, Gisborne? Because you have failed to collect all the taxes in the villages because you have failed to capture Robin Hood!" Guy uncomfortably shifted his jaw to the side and blinked a few times. With every bat he could see Ruby fading farther and farther away from him. Fury piled up inside and lies began to roll into shape with fear that he would lose the ability to attain her. Fueled by possession, he refused to allow the possibility that she could not be attached to his side at all times. He had to have her like a sword upon his hip in order to be happy, and this petty excuse for a Sherriff would not stop him.

"Sherriff, my men are hard at work after Hood. And as for the ewerer… she would be my private hand and my responsibility. It will make no difference to you." He held his breath along with a steady gaze in the face of a sneer. Cogs turned for Vesey as he analyzed the hidden desperation is his right hand man, noting that this amount of secrecy and passion had only really been around for Maid Marian.

"How cute," he poked with a hush, "Gisborne has a little crush, hmm? Feeling a little something in there?" A pudgy finger tapped on Guy's heart as he cleared his throat.

"I need a replacement ewerer." He repeated calmly. The Sherriff had a little nod then sized the leather clad man up and down.

"Ah, I see. Needing another pretty lady for the bath and the sheets." Irritation stirred at the connotation of Vesey's idea. Ruby was more than a wonderful body, but now was not the time to contest assumptions. A silent agreement had been made and Guy shuffled out from the map room to find air to breathe.

Late afternoon was on the way to Nottingham by the time castle guards had notified the petite religious girl and packed the few goods she had brought. The iron gate winched back down after each person had passed into the courtyard as Guy stood proudly upon the stone steps, hands placed expectantly upon his hips as his blue eyes traced the lines of her face. Ruby could not contain her excitement after dismounting from her ride and she began a borderline unladylike jog to her man. Their embrace was warm and whole hearted; it shut out surrounding time and events to where they neglected to notice the guards toting chests of clothing up to her new chambers.

"I am so excited to be here with you, Sir Guy." Ruby grinned. He chuckled and wiped a stray wisp of hair from her cold skin, both of them pretending the formality was required. "What a wonderful Christmastide we will have." They remained in close proximity and pretended Ruby did not have to leave soon. Though her love interest had protested, she insisted she visit the local church to celebrate the magi of the season before supper. In order to please her he had not put on a strong restriction; he found her religious spirit cute. Personally he would not be found in a church unless he was to be married and, well, he didn't have a great history with that. Scars and life had left him too bitter to be humbled or obedient to a priest. Bitterly they parted and looked forward to the next time their skin would touch.

Wax melted into a bubbled plate that dripped onto the table lazily. Kitchen staff began to slide dishes back into the separate hall as Guy sat fuming. There were two platters of food that had been left completely untouched – his, and that of the girl who was expected at the meal. Ruby, however, never showed up. The moon had begun to hang in the sky when Gisborne abandoned the hope and charged out of the dining hall. His mind fell back to question her reliability and devotion to him. As much as Gisborne detested the sound of whining like the Prince about other people's affections towards him, but his curiosity and anger grew in harmony. He reflected on the day after he first met her when she left him to stand alone in humiliation at his own post. The man of black hurled the concern of adding extra layers to defend himself against the cold to the fireplace as he stormed through the entrance of his abode into the town. His boots crunched frosted vegetation as stomps made their way to Nottingham's chapel, clouds of condensation puffing from each exhale, clumps of snow wadding up at the sides of the manually cleared roads. He would find her.

Regret bit him as he noticed the church on the horizon; he was freezing cold. Guy attempted to pinpoint his focus on rage so as not to become hard and coated in ice like the apple decorations that lined the city. Chilly powder edged ivy on the trim of the holy building but sprinkled to the ground as the heavy door was slammed shut. In the back right pew sat a slender man who had reached his mid-twenties at the latest, the thin brown hair plainly hanging from his scalp, woolen peasant clothes swallowing his scrawny arms, pasty small palm holding the hand of the blonde and beautiful Ruby. A nerve within his head snapped and any thought prior to action momentarily lapsed. Gisborne clawed at the peasant's shirt and yanked him from the seat, screaming profanities and demanding he leave before further action be taken. Turning to the object of his affection, a sedation appeared by staring into her eyes.

"Guy… what are you doing?" Ruby mustered with shock cementing her in place. He searched for words, but wound up only pointing to the door that the man had fled from. He found within his heart a deep fear for hurting her with his confrontations. But frustration still swelled within him. "Do you think we were…? He is a scribe! We were praying, Guy! Praying!"

"You are in danger, he heard himself spit out, "The outlaws that mugged you have been seen in Nottingham. I have to get you to the castle for your own safety, Ruby. We must go." A gloved hand extended towards her and, reluctantly, she took firm hold of it. There had been no reason in their past for her to doubt his words. Her sister may spew whatever words of warning she desired, but at the end of the day, this man ignited joy and safety inside of her. He retrieved her stolen jewelry the day before and proved his devotion to her well-being with gifts. Ruby trusted him. "Until they are gone, I cannot let you out of my sight, do you understand? I can't see you get hurt. You cannot leave the castle until I say otherwise. Do you understand?" The rapidly pronounced information was still ribboning into being processed when he lost patience, "Do you?"

"Yes, Guy. Yes." Ruby responded hurriedly. He grasped her wrist tight and paced back to their home that loomed over each local building. A small tugging itched his stomach and he feared it could be remorse. Had he just lied to her? He has lied countless times before, what was the difference? The difference was that this situation had no downside. He had her as an object and he now controlled her whereabouts. She would not leave him again and she would not be found in a compromising situation like this ever again. He could love her, spoil her, and give her everything she could desire in the fortress. They would live together and be safe. His beautiful bird now sat in his hand, and he could not be happier as they braved the cold on the open road.


	7. Swimming With the Swan

Okay all you beautiful people, I suppose I have to start off with an apology. No, this story was not abandoned in a dumpster somewhere. I recently started a new job and wow does it cut into my free time! Here in the next couple of days I plan to push my stories ahead a few chapters, so go ahead and buckle your seats, keep all hands and feet inside the ride at all times, and hold on tight.

DAY SEVEN

The morning light was infused with haziness as it filtered through the windows into the newly inhabited ewerer's chambers. The sun had just recently caressed the sky of northern England and started the day, which was the signal for the working staff of Nottingham castle to get to their duties. Bubbles of giddiness popped and fizzled within her stomach as Ruby finished scraping the tartar from her teeth. She had dressed to the nines for her first day of work and was prepared for the best, and she had been careful to put on her most comfortable shoes – after all, she would have to run hot water all across the castle until supper time. That can be quite straining on a young and tender girl's feet. But Ruby was excited for the day and thankful for all the strings Guy must have pulled to help her get work. She was amazed at the thoughtfulness of such a strong man and orbited her fanciful considerations around him; in fact, she couldn't have pushed the black leather from her mind if she wanted to. The blonde scuffled over to the polished silver plate that hung from the wall to pick her curls into place one last time before setting out. Ruby was purely blind of her simple beauty. Where she saw a featureless and plain face, the world recognized her picturesque round visage and mild cheek bones. When she poked at her pale lips, everybody else saw a plump and warm mouth the shade of a spring rose. And as her piercing bright eyes looked into their own reflection they seemed to lose her astonishingly soft loveliness in translation. The trip to the door was spent thinking about what a false longshot it would be to make Sir Guy of Gisborne attracted to her. She placed a velvet grasp on the handle and tugged open the wooden exit.

Air was sucked into the chamber from the hall which made the hem of her dress dance a bit. The refreshing scent of lilies flew up into doorway and put her in shock as she looked down to see why. At her feet lay bundles of daphnes and hellebores tied up in twine, the lush purple hues contrasting the ice cold gray stone. Without hesitation she scooped up the flowers and planted her face onto the bale to absorb the gentle smell. Small red berries from the daphne nuzzled her cheek as she took in one last whiff. Ruby's fingers kept stroking the petals until she could barely feel the texture anymore; the pollen from the center tinting the tips of her nails as she laid them inside her room. She floated out to the kitchen area to begin the work of the day without any clue that the person responsible for the flora had been around the corner watching her reaction the entire time. Guy let a grin tug at the corners of his lips as he brushed aside a few stray strands from his eyes and walked away.

Ruby's entrance into the kitchen wasn't particularly welcome. Her politeness was met with bare indifference and tiny scoffs, which put her off rather quickly. As one of the cooks, Adeline, explain to her, "We see people coming in and out of here all the time. One foul move and you're plucked outta here like a feather from a goose." Each woman went about her own business while paying little mind to the others; she hoped that after time they may warm up to her. It would be great to have a bit of girl talk now and then. As the day passed, though, the only thing that seemed to change was the number of splinters that invaded her palms. As Ruby used the last of her arm strength to place a log under the boiling stew pot, a chambermaid popped into the room and called her name almost regretfully.

"Gisborne has requested his bath." It was so clear that this woman was broken up. Depression ruled her face as the words came out and didn't seize even when she saw the ewerer light up with joy. Instead, confusion was just added. The maid hesitated before going back around the corner to fold her pile of loose laundry – that poor girl had no idea what she was just sent to do. How did she not know the wickedness of Gisborne? The chambermaid paused and squeezed her eyes shut. She should have taken the bullet for the new kid, surely this child would make a mistake, and when she did….. Well, there's a reason there are open spots for the staff.

It took some grunting and the very strong urge to swear, but eventually Ruby got the pot of hot water raised up high enough to dump in the tub. Warm liquid sloshed back to front for a few moments, rocking up the tall end with the back rest then sliding to the shorter end and creeping towards the rim before settling down. She threw in three handfuls of rose petals that were reserved for baths and stood proud for a second. That wasn't so bad. Her clear eyes started to drift around the room; this is where her love interest lived. His quarters were minimal but nice, well-kept organization on his desk was apparent and everything lying about on the mantle was of functional use. Ruby couldn't help but notice it had no touch. Surely he had lived here for at least a few months yet there were no trinkets, knick-knacks, or even paintings of family or scenery. Her brain began to dissect this formal style until she got hit hard with a battering ram to the chest – the towels. She had been oblivious to getting any linens at all. The pace at which she pounded through the stone corridors was highly inappropriate and unbefitting of a lady at all; however, she could not let him down, she had to get the towels and hurry back before being marked a failure. If she was no good at being a servant, how would he think she could ever be a wife? Blindly she reached across a maid and pulled a group of cloths that had just been pressed dry and scurried to her post. Nobody had to know that she screwed up her first task. Ruby swung open the chamber door violently and closed it with slightly less fury before turning to pretend all was right. She had been caught, however.

Her widened eyes and heaving chest were met with a laugh. She had thought the chambers would still be vacant, but no. In the center of the room sat Sir Guy of Gisborne submerged in the bath water. His hands were fiddling with a fresh cut block of soap while his blue eyes glanced into hers. Both of them gave the gift of silence as she lowered her head and went to him to get this job over with before she collapsed on the floor, lips blue, and died from embarrassment.

"So your first day has been keeping you busy, has it?" his baritone voice rang with a chuckle as she picked a soap.

"I have been quite occupied, yes." Was her hushed response. The tone was clearly professional and glancing away from the joke. Ruby pushed her sleeves up just above her elbows to where the fabric would hold itself to her shape and dunked her hands, grasping the soap bar, into the relaxing water beside Gisborne. She cleared her throat and began to gently rub down the official's bare back, being sure to exfoliate the skin to give it a nice shine. Ruby moved to the shoulders just before he leaned back against the tub, raising his chin to smile at her soft face.

"I trust you had a good morning." He nearly whispered, as if it was a secret between them. Both of their memories flew back to the daphnes that had adorned her porch today. His voice had gone from childish banter to soothing romantic velvet, which easily made her blush. The heat in her nerves intensified as she avoided looking into his strong face and moved her hands down across the nude skin of his chest.

"It was lovely." Her bathing had gone down to the flesh of his belly as she hung over him, both of their bodies hard with tension. He would give anything to reach up and kiss her lips right now, to feel her face against his, and she would do the same.

"Ruby," he reached up a hand from the water, fingers dripping with rose scented bath, and placed it upon her cheek, "you are lovely." The bar of lye fell from her palm and sank to the wooden bottom but neither of them paid it any attention. She kept her hands on his ribs as he snaked his fingers to the back of her head, slipping them in between threads of her hair. Their hearts pounded in unison, blood pounded through the veins, and the door pounded open.

Ruby soared up straight and took a step back from the drum as Guy shot to standing, clenching a towel and feverishly hurrying to cover himself. The castle guard that had opened the door stepped aside and made way for Nottingham's other figure in black. The Sherriff pushed through the entrance as his robe dragged across the dusty floor, hanging from his small stature.

"Ah, Gisborne," he scanned the unclothed man up and down, "I see you're free. The maggots of Nettlestone have decided a revolt would be fun… Go teach them differently," Vesey looked to Ruby and gave her a kinky smile while staring at her small waist, "You can assert you manhood there." Guy pulled up the breath to speak but let the trace of words escape him. He kept his cool whilst his ewerer lost hers, for as the Sherriff just cleared to doorway she shoved past him and fled down the hall. The guards watched her scuttle down a winding staircase and out of sight. Gisborne tugged a pair of trousers up to his waist as he called out.

"You," he pointed to a guard and waggled his finger to command his entrance. The man of defense obliged and came to his side, trying to take his superior professionally as Gisborne toweled his chest dry. His face was sullen and brooding, "Under no circumstances is that ewerer to leave this castle, do you understand me? She stays here. I don't care what you do, but she will remain indoors." With that he folded himself into a black shirt and slipped his leather jacket over it. He tread off with gnarling steps and muttered to himself, "She will be mine."


	8. Getting Milk From the Maid

DAY EIGHT

Guy pulled his right glove off with his teeth then proceeded to tug off the left. He stuffed them both in his back pocket and pushed through the crowd of peasants. The beat of his steps was increasing as he drew nearer and nearer to the castle, knowing that regardless of the horrible ride back home from the satellite village he had Ruby waiting there for him. The thought of his young and innocent girl made the festivities bustling around more bearable; in fact, he hadn't really thought anything negative or spitting about the carnival or the visitors since coming into town. She was quite the breath of fresh air. Gisborne scratched the side of his nose as he skipped up the entrance steps to his dwelling. The serious man was nearly jogging through the hallways and twisting around stairs to set his eyes upon Ruby and have the opportunity to kiss her once more. Gisborne rested his gaze on the guards posted at her chamber doors and felt a pang in his stomach – he didn't like to have to put her on house arrest, but how could he know he could be sure to have her? Once he courted her and she agreed to be his she would be free to do anything and go just about anywhere, with mild supervision, of course. But until then he had to ensure that she was available only to him. Guy held one hand in his pocket clutching the hair pins he had brought for her as he opened her chamber door and entered with a grin.

Ruby sat perched in her window seat with needlework frames all around her. Over the course of the day she had created a portrait of a kitten in a garden and an ornate religious cross. The early darkness of a winter night had pulled a deep shade of purple over the window, which would require that someone light a candle soon. She paid no attention to his appearance until he spoke, and even then it was only half-hearted.

"Ruby, I thought you would be getting prepared for supper at this time." He began to slip the golden gift out from his jacket when he was interrupted.

"I would be, if I were allowed out of this room." The sharpness in her voice caught him off guard and he felt that now was not the time to adorn her with jewelry. "Tell me, Sir Guy, what crime have I been charged with?"

"I beg pardon, my lady?" Was all he could force from his throat. Gisborne jammed the pins back into their pocket and folded his arms across his chest.

"None of these guards will allow me to leave, Sir Guy. Why? Why can I not go to work? Why can I not go into the garden?"

"Ruby, I sincerely do not know…" he hurried to her and knelt down. His cold hands reached to hold her soft palms but the blonde pulled away, yet with a second attempt Gisborne formed a tender clamp around her. "Believe me, I want nothing more than your happiness, and I can prove it." He slipped the pins out and held them before her. Ruby was truly a fan of them, but this bit of good did not dissolve the great mountain of bad and frustration that had been her day today. Guy stood and placed the hair pins carefully in her bun, watching as the shine proudly stood out from her silky hair. "I give you my word that you are free to go about the castle grounds as you like, and I shall get to the bottom of this." He warmly set a kiss on her temple and coolly strode out. Once out of sight, he slammed his hand into one of the guards' head – hard. "You have confined her to this room all day? Why?" His voice was a muted bark so as not to upset his love in the next area. The armored man clambered to stand back upright and resettle his vision.

"M-My Lord, Sir Guy, you instructed that she not leave the grounds. I can be sure of that if she stays here…" Gisborne slammed him again.

"You are a petty fool. Get out of here, now! Before I change my mind and punish you for treason to my orders." Gisborne shook his shoulders and sprinkled out all of that rage. He glanced over into Ruby's room where she stood, just above five feet, craning her neck in the mirror to admire the hair pins. His eyes drank in the rounding of her cheek as it came to her chin and became the soft, straight line of her milky neck that extended to her fragile looking shoulders. This flowed into the outward curve of her breasts and the inward carving of her waist that gave way to hips that fitted perfectly in her lush green dress. He craved her and her affections like an alcoholic craves one next drink, he could not help himself. Ruby turned her head and saw him watching her, which infected her stomach with butterflies. Her light chortle and ginger lip bite drove him mad.

Gisborne saw the world around him move past, first the doorway flew behind him, then the fireplace, followed by the desk. It was only when he stood toe to toe with Ruby that his mind registered the fact that he had moved to her. Her eyes dazzled up into his as she laid a hand on his bicep with a small squeeze.

"You are so prone to helping me; I do not know how I am to repay you."

"I never asked for you to." He replied lowly.

"Well, I suppose we can now officially say that you are my knight and I am your damsel in distress." Ruby laughed at how often he had come through for her in the past week. This man was full of absolute kindness and honor. His skin was very warm as he stroked the back of her pale neck with his fingers; his coarse hands fell on smooth flesh and the small wrinkles that cradled his eyes deepened more when his mouth broke into a beam.

"Tell me, Ruby, do like it here? In the castle?"

"It's a beautiful place, certainly worth a pretty penny… I'm very glad you invited me." He nodded and continued.

"How would you like to live here permenantly? I have been assured by… a higher authority that I am soon in line to be the Sherriff of Nottingham."

"Oh, Guy, how wonderful!" Ruby inched forward to where their foreheads almost touched, and then her counterpart fulfilled the rest of the movement required for contact.

"It is wonderful, Ruby, very wonderful. Soon I will be having wonderful things coming in for me. Wonderful monies, treasures, powers… that would be something wonderful to share with someone wonderful." Gisborne felt a strong gravitational pull on his stomach when she met him with silence. This quiet moment dragged time to a painful length.

"Do you not worry that you are to be shut in here making laws all day?"

"I understand this castle is in need of a bit of rearranging. I can be sure to make it homier for you my dear; besides, you would have everything you could ever desire to own." He furrowed up his brows in reaction to her shaking her head; she was very adamant in turning it down.

"I would rather be a bird in a humble cage with an open door to an endless field than be confined to a pen crammed with luxurious gifts." Ruby pursed her lips as she witnessed his teeth clench, jaw tightening in anger. Would he have to constrict his grip on her to keep her close?

"That is not to say that I have had the best impression of this place, either," she admitted with a sigh, "so perhaps I am simply mistaken." Guy nestled her young face in his work worn palms and drifted off into her stare, being caught up by how her eyelashes swept around the beautiful color of her eyes. His thumb ran up and down.

"I will do anything to make you happy." He vowed in a deep tone. His posture was slightly stooped over and his chin was hung down so as to meet her at face level, but even his trivial discomfort was no problem when he won such close time with her. He gulped his racing adrenaline while she broke connection for a nearly inaudible snicker.

"Well, if you want to make me happy," she soothingly cooed, "then perhaps we should go down for supper; I am famished!" Guy placed his head to hers one last time before taking her hand and leading her out and down the glowing hallway, the air filled with the scent of melting candles, and their minds stuffed with thoughts of how the other must be at kissing.


	9. The Lady Learns the Dance

This is the part where I owe you guys some apologies. I know Christmas is past and the story is still not complete! I have had an insane work schedule and several health scares in my family, but from here on it is smooth sailing! Hopefully this chapter will make you forgive me. Have a great read and, as always, a wonderful day.

DAY NINE

The chill swirled through the air and snaked between flesh and cloth with ease. Frozen wind nibbled across exposed skin and left hands creased with a lack of moisture, but Ruby seemed to be the only person in England without a second thought to nature's bitterness. Shivering guards jingled inside of their armored suits while holding their strategic positions across Nottingham castle. It was only vaguely apparent that the layer of watchmen had been thickened around the garden where Ruby hummed her way through the small lull of the afternoon. It had not gone past her that henchmen were following each move she made, even as she heated the water for the castle before the sun made an appearance. She denied her mind the right to do much more than acknowledge it. Guy had told her not too long ago that the outlaws who had mugged her were still near the vicinity of the city, so surely they were a defense tool, after all the Sherriff resided here and needed his life preserved. Her numbing fingers fumbled about the edges of several pine cones that she had begun to assemble into a festive bouquet. As the time stretched, the sensation she could register from her digits shrank, so fitting the small crab apples in was frustratingly awkward. It was not clear to onlookers that her masterpiece was anything but beautiful.

It is true that Gisborne possessed the idea that everything she did was filled with grace and humility, so it was not farfetched to predict that as he stood tall over the lawn his eyes dared to glisten a bit. The man of black kept his pose against the stone wall constant as he continued his secret surveillance of his crush. Her transition to a new home and lifestyle was with great underestimation slightly unsettling. It was as if the roots of a flower were torn from the earth and left to dangle above ground; the last thing he wanted to do was bombard Ruby with demands and damage the fragile chance of his courtship succeeding. But at the same time Guy could sense the moments of opportunity burning away such as a strip of parchment in a starving flame. He squirmed inside his leather and stroked a slow streak down his beard, sniffing a bit before retreating into the warm shelter of the castle.

Hours drifted past into the universe and before Nottingham could blink dusk had fallen on the country. Citizens were too preoccupied with festivities and jovial games to pay any attention to this shift in scene, but for the personnel of the Sherriff, it simply signaled a new task to begin. Several ewerers strained their delicate arms hauling firewood and thick metal cauldrons through the kitchen to heat water as cooks were stripping vegetables of their hide for supper. Ruby, however, had become excused from the splinters, the noise, and the daggers from jealous and aging women; as a private ewerer her gentle hands were kept busy balancing the rose petals and fragrances in Gisborne's bath instead of being spit up on by boiling water. They both were tranquilly silent.

Ruby romanced the aura of the season as her fingers glossed over the top of the bath water. Her light frame leaned against the tub and pointed to the windows, her mind romancing this glorious and holy chapter of the year. Guy gave the tension in his muscles to the soothing soak as his icy eyes watched the feminine form without a single break. He didn't even notice that he wasn't blinking. This airy gaze seemed to focus on her cheeks and her neck, both tender and pale, both with an almost sculpted curve. Her blonde locks flopped to the front of her shoulder when she abruptly turned her head to Guy with a beam. His lips drew up to match the warm sign as he pulled his hand from the tub and placed his dripping palm on top of hers. The air, and the time, hung still as if glued.

"I cannot wait to see you tonight. I hope it would not be too forward if I could sit next to you?" her caressing tone did nothing to give him any idea what she was talking about. Gisborne sharply jutted his jaw to the side and blinked several times before replying.

"And where would we be sitting?"

"In church, of course," she screwed up her brows, "you can't tell me you have forgotten today is the day of Christ's Mass?"

Guy was familiar with the term – it was thrown about at this time, but under no circumstances had he entered a church for religious reasons in easily years. Faith was a lost cause for a man who believed that no one could be higher than he held the potential for.

"I do not know that you should go out this evening," his voice held sincerely, "perhaps you could remain here, with me. Show me how you make those little decorations you have been hanging through the staff rooms." He felt her fingers inch back from his grip.

"You cannot truly plan to miss this evening's service. It is the most important of the year!" Ruby muffled her laughter with a new thought. "I do not think the thieves will be hollow enough to mug women at Christ's Mass; they are sure to have souls."

It was then that Guy made his crucial mistake. As he rinsed away the remaining soap from his arms he questioned what thieves she was even referring to before biting his tongue. His pupils swelled as Gisborne looked up to see her confused face. He wanted to take those words back, eat those words, cram them down his throat, choke on them, die on them, anything but say them to her. A battering ram hit his chest in the moment it took Ruby to fit together the pieces of his puzzle.

"The thieves – the thieves you said I am here to protect myself from. The thieves that are keeping me from leaving this castle… do they exist?"

"Ruby –" his chin sunk to his chest as he desperately begged her name.

"I'm not in danger, am I? Not from anyone outside," she tugged her body away from him and huddled to the wall with a manic look in her eyes, "You've been lying to me, Sir Guy?"

Neither party missed her formality in addressing him. He stood and extended a hand to the red towel a few feet away; a clear indicator for her to do her job and donate it to him. It was even more apparent that she blatantly denied this request. His iron clutch brought the garment over himself as fury propelled him to her, apprehension tearing at his heart, anxiety penetrating his gaze. She did not let him touch her.

"You will not be going out tonight, Ruby. Your place is here, with me, in the castle." She violently shook her head.

"You cannot decide that. You have no right." As she slipped against the stone border of the room to the side of his approach, Guy met her movement. He pressed into her motion until Ruby found her back folding into a corner and his body crept in. She felt his breath on her forehead as he extended both arms above her head. He rested his palms flat, forming a human pin that kept her nose to nose with him. His face held gentleness where his words did not.

"You can promise me you will go to your chambers and remain her for the evening, or I can arrange that it's guaranteed you will not see anything outside until after the sun rises. It's your choice."

Ruby felt her heart pump adrenaline through her veins as her breaths became shorter and shallower. Her head was spinning as faintness came into her mind. She was hyperventilating. Gisborne bent his elbows in slightly so that his face was closer than ever before. What had she gotten herself into?


	10. The Lord Leaps Away

Not a single particle in the air moved. Even sounds were frozen and dared not tread onto the fourth floor of Nottingham castle for here resided a void. Emotions had run so high the evening that had just passed that the walls clung to the screaming, desperation seeped into the grout, and regret chilled the atmosphere. A vacuum had been created that drained the spirits of those on this floor through to the wee hours of the morning. Ruby clung tight to the wadded mass of her comforter as her skeleton lay empty in bed. She pressed the sheets to her chest while in the fetal position, never letting her face glance away from the door. It wouldn't be much more of a wait before pink began to fray the horizon, she thought, but what then? It didn't matter whether the moon nor the sun, nor the arrival of dozen suns heralded over the skies. It did not and could not change the circumstances of her life. She sealed her eyes shut to block out the memory of the past few hours but did not have the courage to keep herself so vulnerable. Ruby tore her body from the cocoon of the sheets in a panic attack of claustrophobia. Her mind flew back to the events of last night despite her screeching attempts to restrain herself.

Ruby felt her breast heaving up and down in a nervous attempt to catch her breath. Sir Guy of Gisborne held the side of his nose to hers as his back slumped to accompany their difference in height, elbows supporting his weight on the wall behind her. His warm exhales pressed on her cheek. In this moment she saw a glaze on his retinas harden into steel that burrowed a hole for her to bury her affections in. He was scaring her.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight and do as you're told?" Guy's face held no smile, his tone possessed by nothing more than a casual business interest, his menace veiled but perceptible.

"Sir Guy," she creakily said from her dry throat, "you – you are the one keeping me here? Why?" Gisborne placed his forearm on her chest and held his fingers in her honey tinted hair.

"Oh Ruby, my angel, you belong here. You belong with me. I know you see it but are too young to realize it," he cooed with fingers clasped tightly in her bun, "There is no sense in you wasting your time and devotion in any man or religion that is not here now." His God complex floored her.

"Sir Guy, please."

"I am going to show the world this wonderful, beautiful girl that I have and they will see, Ruby, they will see how happy we are." She watched as his pupils danced between each of her eyes in primal excitement.

"You can't 'have' me," she whispered, "I am a person, you cannot simply own me. A person can choose to give you their heart, but you can never have their freedom." Ruby watched something tear apart inside of him. In fact, she could pinpoint the exact moment his heart gave way to the bursting floodgates of feelings. Gisborne yanked his hips against hers and pressed every inch of their bodies together, his flesh searing with rage. One hand held her hair firmly still whilst the other pulled at the femur of her red dress to get them closer and closer.

"You accept my courtship and yet you now deny me? After all I did for you?" The whites of his eyes grew enflamed, "You will not leave me; I will have you one way or another." This vow prompted her to attempt a push past the man but his reflexes were trained from years of service to the Sherriff. As she ducked to his left she became caught on the forearm that pressed her back to the cold wall. The impact puffed a small whimper from Ruby just as his claws snatched back to her dress. Gisborne grabbed at gobs of the cloth as she tried to slide out another direction. The force of his toned body, however, was stronger than her petite power. He wrestled the hem up on her squirming body to provide the opening he needed as she pounded on his shoulders with white-knuckled fists. His knee went between her thighs and held her soft legs apart as she swiftly began shouting his name in repetition.

"Guy! Guy, please! Guy! Guy, no, please! Guy, stop!" As her screams tumbled into tears something awoke inside of Gisborne, giving his fingers a laxness that released the fabric of her clothing. Ruby's face was averting him and glossed with tears; she did not have the gall to open her eyes even though she no longer felt his presence on her. She heard his bare soles skimp back a few steps before he grabbed a vase and heaved it into the fireplace, glittering shards around the area and leaving feather quills splayed homeless on the ground. Ruby curled up her knees into her arms as he stormed out of his own chambers.

This scene would not leave her even as the time departed and left it further and further from the physical realm. As she lay motionless in bed Ruby noted the door to her room opening for the third time this evening, and for the third time there stood the man in all black. Upon his first visit, she was expecting an apology. On the second, she prepared her body for him to make another try to deflower her. But, just as the other times, he simply stood as a statue in the doorframe. In the dark mist of night she could not make out any features on him, but she could sense that it was, in fact, Gisborne, and that he was staring at her constantly. Two or three minutes of stillness left and then eventually so did he.

Guy clicked the thick gate shut and said nothing. He nabbed his worn satchel and let out a long breath during the decent on the turning staircase. His brain pumped in regret and sorrow that he could not shake loose as the images looped and burned his memory, leaving no room for any thought outside of his foolish actions. He approached the stable and extracted his faithful horse from his pen but, as he prepared the saddle, his sense of reality wandered back to the evening before.

There she was, the blonde obsession of his heart, standing in his quarters so close to him. He nuzzled his nose to hers and so dearly hoped she would respond to his plea.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight as you're told?" his throat clenched in the mild worry that she would become as rambunctious and wild as Marian had been.

"Sir Guy," her pouty pink lips trembled, "You - you are the one keeping me here? Why?" He watched her precious mouth twitch with anxiety, leading him to put a relaxing hand in her hair to soothe her. How could he explain how he felt to her? She was so young, so fragile, and so sheltered from this new world of Nottingham.

"Oh Ruby, my angel, you belong here. You belong with me. I know you see it but are too young to realize it," Guy struggled to form the words that could express how he felt and the frustration invaded his fingers, "There is no sense in you wasting your time and devotion in any man or religion that is not here now."

"Sir Guy, please."

"I am going to show the world this wonderful, beautiful girl that I have and they will see, Ruby, they will see how happy we are." Pride combatted his desire for her tender companionship in the pit of his chest as he saw how little she respected what he had to say. It was as if she had become deaf; her attention was clearly on other parts of the room and not his emotions. This upset him.

"You can't 'have' me," she said matter-of-factly, "I am a person, you cannot simply own me. A person can choose to give you their heart, but you can never have their freedom." Was this it? Was this how she felt for him? After all of his favors and tokens of affection her mind played out to be that of another simple girl who didn't love him? She probably just wanted the status of being affiliated with someone so high up… but all their exchanges felt so electric. Gisborne plummeted into a state of confusion and lost control over his own self. He felt himself push into her hips in demand of that closeness he knew they had, if only she would open herself to the possibility, if only she gave him the chance.

"You accept my courtship and yet you now deny me? After all I did for you?" he poured various thoughts that were flooding at once into a sentence, "You will not leave me; I will have you one way or another."

In a flash she ducked to his side and tried to push past him, cut him off, and get away. His body reacted and caught her. Ruby gave a small cry while he witnessed his hands blockading another escape. As if an onlooker, Guy's blue gaze was hooked as he noticed his hands pulling at her dress. He felt the adrenaline and pleasure course through him as her pale knees was exposed to the air, but something in his mind convinced him that he didn't want to stop there. His leg pressed between hers as Ruby began to scream out his name. He perceived them as muffled whines but very soon the fog over his eyes cleared and he heard her begging in a sad transparency once he numbly realized what he was doing. Was he really going to…? Guy dropped her clothes and let them fall to their natural place on her frame as she cried quietly. He staggered backwards from the scene of the soon-to-be crime in shock and disappointment. How could he have even thought to do such a thing to her? She was his prized possession, or rather, was destined to be his treasure. But in this black out it had burnt away into nothing more than a dream. He cut his own chance with Ruby as he had with Marian, the only other woman he felt this way for, and for what? He did not know. There was no benefit, no reason to his action, no excuse. Why must he always torture himself in this vicious cycle? He absentmindedly reached for a vase and broke it to the sound of his heart falling into pieces. He could not look at Ruby again.

A cold wind flew into his face and awoke him from this reflection just in time to finish preparing his stallion. Without a moment of hesitation, Sir Guy of Gisborne strode off to his manor in Locksley to wait out the repercussions of his actions and delay the inevitable loneliness he would soon be reintroduced to.


	11. The Piper's Pipe Dream

I hope the dramatic pause didn't put too many of you off! Tonsillitis is an incredible way to get distracted and not write so frequently. But, I have returned, and now the conclusion shall unfold. Please, please, PLEASE leave a comment for the story, it absolutely makes my day. :)

DAY ELEVEN

Locksley manor was as empty as it had ever been. The ice of Guy's blue eyes reflected the feathery dusting of snow that sprinkled the town outside of his window. It was the afternoon, in the heat of the day, and yet he still had not made the effort to change his clothes. The noble had moped around his home barefoot for hours in black linen comfort trousers and a loose shirt; the clothes he had slept in, or at least tried to. His third cup of ale was coming to an end as he slid out of the kitchen in silence. Guy slinked into a cushioned velvet chair and glanced about til he set eyes on the fireplace. Yes, a fire would be good to have right now. After a moment, though he rolled his eyes; he had sent home all of his work staff in the manor to ensure complete privacy for his sulking. Or did he want to be alone in the slight hopes the Ruby may make an appearance…?

With a sigh he rose and dragged himself to the mantle; there were hours of daylight left to waste away so he found himself in no hurry. A clumsy grab was made to a chunk of flint. Gisborne then found another downside – where in the bloody hell was his dagger? He would need steel to strike to ignite the wood. How peculiar it seemed that when one is down, even the most routine tasks become overbearing and terribly complicated to complete. Frustrating searches led to finding a small knife in the next room that he brought back to the fireplace and charged the flint into its blade to no avail. A second hit. Then a third. A fourth, a fifth, a sixth, he threw the flint to the ground and jabbed the knife into the wooden mantle. Guy traced his way angrily back to his chair and finished the alcohol, his hands placed on the armrests as he stood hunched over. He wiped a large palm over his face and let out a huge sigh, looking up at the roof's rafters for no particular reason. _Get over it, you git, _he thought to himself. He allowed his pride to remove its leash and run off for the day as he took humble steps back to the flint stone. Guy sat on the floor, cross-legged, before the fireplace. Two strikes to the steel and sparks flew off into the dry wood, prompting a crackling flame as air pockets were exposed to the heat. Gisborne did not move. He remained seated and let the light dances about his face while emptily he watched it burn away. Just like his hopes to ever find happiness.

The golden glow reminded him of Ruby's amber honey hair and how soothing the smell of it was when he would lean near her. Oh God, he just wanted to bury his face in that hair and lay in it next to her. He wanted to feel her soft body in his arms. Gisborne craved to know what her lips tasted like and how the weight of her would feel in bed next to him…

_Stop,_ he commanded himself. The worst torture he had ever endured had always been his own mind. In the deepest pits of his heart, Guy feared that he would live a very long life. The more years he had, the more suffering he would be shoved through. He understood that his pride and vanity removed the option of suicide, but hoping to develop a fatal disease anytime soon would suit him perfectly. The world would likely not miss his presence at all, and he sure as hell would not miss the world.

This train of depression was derailed as a tender knock resonated from his front door. In the manner of a dog, his back shot up straight and he turned his head to the door, ears perked, heart pounding. It had to be her. Gisborne launched himself up and nearly tripped over his own feet in a rush to the polished metal mirror against the wall. He desperately tugged wrinkles away from his clothing and smoothed back his growing hair. He swung open the entrance but immediately found a flat face; his mouth hung open a bit when he registered that it was, in fact, just the cook. With a flick of the wrist he opened up far enough for her to slip inside and mosey to the kitchen with a meek smile. He watched her pass and felt his eyes drift down to her rump. How many times had he drowned his sorrows in the female body? Would once more be so bad? Gisborne shook his head and pressed his temple into the frame of the nearby window. It would be awful. He would find an hour of drunken pleasure in her, feeling that sense of control he constantly yearned for. He could have anything he wanted; but then what? He would throw her out and go back to this, this fuzzy vagueness in the world of regret. And would he miss Ruby more? Would every inch of his worker's skin only make him curious as to what that looked like on his blonde obsession? With a vigorous rub to his eyebrows he went into the kitchen after his servant.

She was taller than his love and with much darker auburn hair. Her face was fairly plain and her figure held no shape in particular. With her hands in the sink accompanying some vegetables, Guy set a hand on her shoulder and jutted out his chin.

"I have no appetite, there is no need for you to prepare a supper." He squeezed her a bit and turned away, drifting alone into his chambers. When, he wondered, would that sweet relief of deadly disease come?


	12. Drumming Heartbeats

Here we go: the final day of Christmas. Thank you all for your reviews and follows and dedication to this story! I have a few more Robin Hood tales if you are interested and, as always, I hope your day is filled with peace and happiness.

DAY TWELVE

Here it was - Christmas. The year had reached its end and given all of its opportunities for pain and pleasure over to the human race. What, everybody wondered, would this next season bring? Of course, for most people of Nottingham the outlook was bleak. Robin Hood was a crutch that they knew could not splinter in the future for their own sakes. The populace wondered how many more times the outlaw would save their skins; meanwhile, Sir Guy of Gisborne pondered how many more mistakes he could make. He was so tired. Both his heart and his mind ached from the yearning for joy that he himself held at an arm's length away; was there nothing he could allow himself to embrace?

A veil of smoky freeze drifted across the crunchy earth of Locksley as the cold of winter marched around. Afternoon had made its way along with songs of joy and much needed rest whilst on the doorstep of the manor lay a pile of strewn about gifts for the Lord of the land. Out of tradition, peasants bestowed their land owner with trinkets for the season and, out of poverty, none of it was worth a second glance. Bursts of curiosity brought Gisborne to finger the curtain from the window and peek at his new belongings, but his heart held little warmth in the stinging cold of Christmas. A few candlesticks and hand sewn blankets had made their way to his home anonymously whilst he burned away time in the fireplace. Surely, he thought, things would be better if he had stayed in Nottingham. At the very least there would be festivities that could pull his attention away, and yet his brain had no authority to move himself from the manor. Here, it was decided, he would wonder what fun Ruby was having in town.

She did not, however, have any idea what the capital city was up to on this day of grace, either. Her own head tugged and screamed for her to find the nearest pub and dance away the holiday with a handsome stranger; but then again, where had that gotten her last time? At the moment it led to her bitterly trudging through Sherwood Forest. Ruby was cursing herself inside out with each bump that her horse's hoofs pounded into the soil. Since the sun rise she had been possessed by some fever of irrationality and stupidity to crave a resolution with Gisborne, fully aware that it was a foolish idea. Their fallout had been gutting and sorrowful, and yet somehow they were both aware that it was not the end. It could not be the end. They could sense each other begging that it was not the end. Yet a stalemate of silence had grown and he had fled to Locksley, she discovered, to glue back together his pride. What could possibly draw Ruby out into the ice of December to storm through the woods on an hour long ride to beg forgiveness from a man that had tried to harm her? It was a new experience; something she had never seen the horizon of, and as much as it broke her heart she had to feast on it to survive. Unfortunately, she sighed, she was in love with Sir Guy of Gisborne and none of his wrong doings could stop her from aching to stroke his cheek and whisper her feelings to him. Why on earth could she not live in a fairytale, Ruby muttered.

The maple brown mare that she had stolen away began to slow its pace as a rolling hill announced the beginning of Locksley. Fog fell from everyone's mouth with each laugh and spoken word as Ruby slid from the side of the horse and landed to the ground with a thump; she detested being so short when it came to horse riding. Her mind flashed a fantasy of Gisborne, his warm hands cradling her waist as he gingerly led her from the animal's back and gracefully brushed her down with a grin. She shook her head to get it out. Even through sheep skin gloves ice ate at Ruby's hands when she clutched the reigns and led the aging steed through the main road of town. There wasn't a single soul looking at her and yet the blonde felt stone eyes carving into her flesh and analyzing each clumsy shiver in the frost, each time she cleared her throat, and each mousy attempt to not gaze and pry into the activities of the citizens. Nerves were eating her from the inside, but what she feared she could not discern. Surely Guy would not be upset about her coming here, would he?

At the base of a gentle slope lie the thatched roofed manor she had journeyed to find. The thin soles of Ruby's shoes scuffed along sleet and let ice transfer to her flesh as she tied her horse to the outside of Gisborne's stable. The deep soulful eyes of the beast reflected her own open gaze as she stroked her snout and hoped the creature was not nearly as cold as she was. After a moment of hesitation, Ruby approached the front door. She was careful not to let her feet disrupt the gifts scattered about as she rapped her numb knuckles on the thick wood and awaited a reply. Nothing came. She tried again but with admittedly less vigor and, after a moment, Ruby found herself startled when she heard the latch click from inside. Guy thrust open the door quickly enough to catch her jump at the noise. The mask of indifference that he had prepared for a peasant vaporized into naked shock as his muscular grip on the door dropped. Gisborne's lips fell apart and the dew on his face shone against the light from a fire; he looked a damn mess.

"Sir Guy," Ruby softly offered as the corner of her mouth tugged up. Instinctually he reached out his hands to cradle her face, but his skin hovered next to hers in hesitation – the last time he had touched her he had created nothing but pain. She licked her lips and scooted forward an inch; just enough to make contact. Though her flesh was frozen he registered nothing but warmth. Ruby's clear eyes drifted away into his and let a hushed bubble envelope them. Both parties had been kept awake last night preparing a speech for their next encounter, and yet where was a single word? Every thought was gone just as this snow would be come April. "Forgive me," she muttered as she pushed herself forward even more, pressing her chest to his and rolling up onto her tip toes. Ruby put her lips up to his and let them brush together, but she lost her nerve at the connection. Guy tightened his fingers and held her blond hair desperately as he finished what she could not. He opened his mouth and took her bottom lip in, tasting and craving it like a prisoner demands water. His right palm fell to the small curve of her back and pulled it in closer as Ruby circled her arms around him. Finally taking this kiss melted iron weights from Guy's shoulders and created a serenity that was unfamiliar but beyond welcomed.

"Ruby, I cannot forgive you," he whispered genuinely after painfully separating their lips. Her eyes fell – what she had done was in no way socially acceptable and he had certainly noticed. Her mouth soured as he chuckled a bit, "You can never do wrong by me, my dear, and I will never need to forgive you." And with this he brought himself into her again.

There they stood, surrounded by a twinkling of dusty snow making its pilgrimage from the atmosphere to the earth, as the year tapered in its last hours to the end. The couple planned to bid away 1146 with a thousand more kisses before starting 1147 together. Perhaps it was a Christmas miracle, or perhaps it was simply time that the universe threw Gisborne a bone, but no matter what had brought them together, they knew it was meant to be.


End file.
